This Summer
by empresslars
Summary: Puck knows that his little sister needs a babysitter. He just doesn't understand why it has to be her. Puckleberry oneshot. Rated T for some coarse language, because it's Puck.


**Author's Note: So, I had a weird bout of insomnia last night, and the idea for this story popped into my head. I was without a computer, so I had to type it up on my phone. Droid keyboards? Not so great for writing fic. Anyway, this story takes place sometime during the summer after the current season, but there are no spoilers (at least, as far as I know - I don't read spoilers). I hope you enjoy it!**

**Also, for those who are following my other story, Details in the Fabric, I haven't abandoned it. Work, being the maid of honor for the most indecisive woman I know, and a massive case of writer's block all got in the way. But I have been working on it, and I hope to have a new chapter up shortly.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, or any of its characters.**

* * *

The first time Puck sees the flyer posted on the bulletin board at the JCC one summer afternoon, he bursts into laughter. It's just so typically _Rachel Berry_. Apparently, she's looking for a job as a babysitter, although Puck can't imagine why anyone would choose to do so voluntarily. The flyer is colorful, with Rachel's name (with a star sticker placed after it, naturally) and contact information featured in bold, bright letters and numbers, along with several photographs of her doing various wholesome activities with children: building sandcastles, playing on the swings in the playground, coloring in books. In all of them, she has the same familiar, determinedly cheerful smile.

Puck vaguely wonders where she found the children to pose for the pictures, because if Rachel Berry _ever_ willingly sat down in the dirt and built a sandcastle in her life, then he was the Dalai Lama.

Anyway, just then his sister finds him and is talking a mile a minute while excitedly showing him the drawing she made in art class that day, and he completely forgets about Rachel and her ridiculous flyer. That is, he forgets for about a week, until he sees it again, posted on his refrigerator with a magnet.

He finds it much less amusing this time.

"Mom!" He bellows. "What is this?"

"There's no need to shout, Noah, _honestly_," Miriam Puckerman replies, walking into the kitchen. She sees him gesturing wildly at the flyer. "I should think that it's quite obvious what it is. With the hospital being so understaffed and you working this summer, it's very likely that we'll need someone to help with Sarah, and I'd prefer to have a regular sitter."

Puck frowns. Obviously, _someone_ needs to watch his sister; she's eight years old and kind of an insane genius. Left on her own, she's likely to take apart the TV just to see how it works. Or worse, his Xbox, and then he'd have to kill her, which he'd rather not do since he rather likes Sarah. "What about Mrs. Norris from across the street?" The old bat might be borderline senile, but at least she isn't a crazy midget.

His mother rolls her eyes. "Mrs. Norris moved to Columbus to live with her daughter six months ago. Remember, I told you back then that I'd have to find a new sitter." Suddenly, her expression turns concerned. "Why are you so against this Rachel girl? Don't you know her from school? Do you think she'd be a bad influence on Sarah?"

Puck manages to hold back a snort as he thinks of his foul-mouthed, rowdy sister. Rachel, a bad influence? If anything, it would probably be the other way around. "No, it's not that, it's just..." Puck pauses as he tries to find the words to describe exactly why hiring Rachel Berry would be disastrous.

His mother waits a few moments, but when no further explanation comes forth, she shrugs. "There's no shame in asking for help when you need it, son," she says, patting him on the cheek before leaves the room, effectively ending the discussion.

Puck leans back against the counter and stares at the flyer. It's not that he has anything against Rachel, he thinks as his eyes trace the graceful curve of her neck in one of the pictures. In fact, he might even call her a friend, if guys like him ever had friends that were girls. He hadn't been lying when he'd told the other gleeks that he kind of liked her. He finds her relentless drive to be the best (at singing, dancing, in academics - basically, at _everything_ she tries to do) to be pretty admirable - at least she knows what she wants and is willing to do what it takes to get it. And her absolute refusal to compromise or change herself to fit in with the idiots in their shitty little town takes _balls_, which he has to respect. Actually, he's not really sure why he doesn't want Rachel watching his sister. He just has a feeling that having her around would complicate his life, and he tells himself that it would be best for everyone if his mom just found another babysitter. So, he grabs a pen from the junk drawer and carefully changes a three into an eight and a one into a four in the phone number listed on the flyer. He examines his handiwork and nods in satisfaction at a crisis averted.

Confident that he has successfully outsmarted his mother, he basically forgets all about it again, until he walks into his living room one night after his closing shift at Sheets-N-Things to find Rachel curled up on the couch watching TV. She's in a tight white t-shirt that sets off her golden skin and tiny khaki shorts that are somehow even shorter than the skirts she normally wears at school. _Damn_, _I love summer_, he thinks absently, admiring the expanse of exposed leg.

He clears his throat to catch her attention, and then mentally yells at himself for acting like such a pussy. "Hey, Berry. What the hell are you doing here?" _That's better_, he reassures himself.

"Hello, Noah," Rachel says with a polite smile. "Your mother got called in to work unexpectedly, so she asked me to keep an eye on your sister until you got home from work."

"Oh. Uh, so you're babysitting this summer?" he asks brilliantly. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with him?

She nods. "I needed something to keep me occupied until school starts. I'd probably go crazy otherwise," she adds ruefully.

Yeah, he'd heard about the massive blowup Rachel and Finn had at a party at the beginning of the summer. Puck hadn't been there, but Santana had gleefully recounted the entire thing to him shortly afterward. He hadn't paid too much attention, since he'd been concentrating on removing Santana's spanky pants at the time (and seriously, he'd never understand why the Cheerios had to wear their uniforms_ all the damn time_. School wasn't in session, so who the hell were they cheering for?), and a few days later, Mike had told him that the couple had broken up. But he doesn't want Rachel to think that he's been, like, keeping tabs on her or anything, so he merely grunts in response.

Rachel's smile falters. "Well," she says awkwardly, "since Sarah's upstairs sleeping and you're home now, I guess I should be going." She starts to stand up.

Despite his previous efforts to keep Rachel away from his house and his family, now that she's here, he's oddly reluctant to see her go. "Nah," he says, flopping himself down on the couch and tugging her arm down so that she is sitting down beside him. "Stay and finish your show. What are you watching anyway?"

Rachel settles back into her seat and launches into a description of the plot, something about a murder and a teen detective, but Puck isn't really listening. Her smile has returned, but it's different this time. It's natural and relaxed, and it makes her eyes sparkle. Puck wonders why she doesn't smile like that more often. He feels a weird jump in his stomach, and in the back of his mind he thinks that maybe it's time to stop ignoring these feelings he seems to have whenever he thinks about her. Not at this moment though. No, tonight he's going to relax, sit on the couch with her, and hopefully get her to smile again. He's not really sure what will happen, but whatever he decides to do, he knows one thing for sure: this summer, he's going to try to make her smile like that as often as possible.


End file.
